Scare you?" he asked from where he walked beside her. "No." Yes. Like he didn't know. "I hate that silent speed thing. Worst vampire ability ever.
He had been held to her by a beautiful thread which it pained him to spoil by breaking, rather than by a chain he could not break.
As if Spade's chivalry would allow him to do anything to a woman. The harshest punishment she could imagine him dishing out to Cat would be refusing to open a door for her.
I think given the choice between loving Mare - betrayal included - and never knowing her, I'd chose love. I risked, and I lost, but the risk was still worth it.
Yes sir, the fish was left in place of the crystal ball. It's been bagged and tagged for analysis.” Great. Now we have another red herring on our hands.
Some of Bay's fondest memories were of lying under the apple tree in the summer while Claire gardened and the apple tree tossed apples at her like a dog trying to coax its owner into playing catch.
We bask in the scent of cinnamon before Mom puts a scone her plate. 'His name is Rich,' she says. I select a scone too. 'I like a man with an adjective for a name.
Escape plan number seventeen," I told her. "Run away and open a juice stand in Fresno." "Why Fresno?" "Sounds like the kind of place people drink a lot of juice.
I brought my lips down to hers, and it was like everything that had ever happened to me had simply been a warm-up for this moment, that this was where my life truly began.
She did not want to know what charm he had used to make her love him so deeply. She did not want to know it wasn’t real.
She was his north star, the fixed point round which his world turned. For as long as his heart beat, or hers, he believed they would always share a destiny.
The dead man is on the trolley and the woman collapses across his chest. That's what the ghouls want a shufti at, like at that Princess Diana's funeral, they want to scrutinise those who really knew her, to drink the misery out of their faces.
She smiled, and her eyes started to drift downward. "Cather..." Back up to his eyes. "You know that I'm falling in love with you, right?
For she was the only one, of all of them, to have spared me a pleasant word; and suddenly I longed for time to pass, not for its own sake, but as it would take me back to her.
Sure,” she said, and hugged the laptop bag closer. “What could go wrong?” Michael’s eyes flashed to meet hers in the rearview mirror. Besides everything, I mean,” she said.
Angels should never be exposed to the dire darkness of despair in the tunnel of cosmic nothingness, and although I never believed such maddening thoughts; I couldn't help but feel spiritual in her presence.
And this all causes her to wonder at the disparity between the silk dresses and the natural postures of the body, and to think: How far, HOW FAR, we are willing to go to pretend we are not of the body at all.
We got there without being spotted. I pulled her in, then shut the door, pressing my back to it and exhaling like an epileptic pilot who'd just landed a cargo plane full of dynamite.
And yet the feeling of injustice itself turned out to be strangely physical. Even realer, in a way, than a her hurting, smelling, sweating body. Injustice had a shape, an a weight, and a temperature, and a texture, and a very bad taste.
Guilty she might be. But what human being was not? There were things in her past she needn't be ashamed of, things to be proud of; she wouldn't surrender so meekly to a condemning judgment.
For a second, Hardyy felt sorry for her. She really was messed up. 'Nobody is perfect Cheyenne. We can all do better, but do it for yourself, not for me. Not for anyone else.
